Remnant
by LadyoftheShield
Summary: Casey reunites with his family. Request fic from my sister. Season Three Finale spoilers.


Request fic for my sister- a scene where Casey reunites with his family. Written with Decretum and Megalovania.

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Casey ran.

The world sped past him in a spectrum of dull greys. Air filled his lungs like the tide, yet he moved swiftly as the relentless wind. Concrete crunched under his feet as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Around him, the city thrummed, alive.

"Jones, this way!" Donatello's voice echoed, distorting off the craggy walls of downtown Astoria. He swerved left, twisting between an air conditioning duct and a raised fire escape.

Casey ran, following the ninja ran into the spider web of silver energy bolts. The tessen flew by his head and smashed a Kraang against the wall. Sputtering, it crumpled on itself itself like the end of the world.

"Casey!"

Faint though it was,he knew the voice as well as he knew his own name. His sister's name flew from his throat, a battle cry, an anchor, the light at the end of the tunnel. He brought his hockey stick around in a vicious swing. One Kraang fell, then another, bringing a third down with it. Caring not if they would rise again, he plowed on.

The tessen sang as it flew around them and so did the adrenaline in his veins, overflowing with the heartbeat of the city. Its scum stained his jeans, his hands, his soul- yet his sister shone through the caked layers of ash and filth. While no less stained, she shone far, far brighter than he could ever hope to be.

Raph roared a warning as metal shrieked behind him. A loud crack, then the sound of sand draining from an hourglass as the kraang behind him as it turned to ash. He didn't have to look to know that Raphael had just saved him from a Kraang laser bolt, yet he couldn't care about that now. They could square up later.

Long, thin, and very good at conducting acoustics, the hall of the Kraang ship threw her voice all around him, overwriting the heartbeat of the city, flaking off the grime. The sounds of battle faded as his feet drummed down the hall, following the light of her voice.

Before he reached it, the door fell in, melting away like ghosts in the dawn. Before it faded fully, she breached through the melting door. "Casey!" she screamed, metal droplets clinging to her chin and her dark, kinky curls.

No words answered the summons to his throat. Vision blurred and he opened his arms, falling to one knee. She fell into them, her head slamming into his shoulder. Under the force of her weight (when did she get so big?) he staggered back, and didn't care that his shoulder slammed into the wall behind.

In the back of the cell lingered the pale shadow of his father. Casey ignored him. They would deal with each other later. They had all the time in the world, he thought, kissing his sister's cheek as she clung to him, warm and solid and real.

"Casey!"

Eye contact. Tendrils of color spiralled into the grey world, painting over reality. Bold swatches of color erased the walls- erased her. There was no shadow in the corner and she was fading. Stumbling, he got to his feet, desperation, voices and panic and his name on the wind.

"Casey Jones!"

And when his eyes opened, he flinched away, raising his hand to block the harsh white light of the Fugitoid's ship.

April leaned over him, her eyes steely and watery and a thousand things neither of them could name, but baggy and tired. Her hand lifted off his shoulder and wrapped around her torso. In the corner, the four brothers lay coiled on top of each other, sharing body heat on the cold ship as best they could.

"Your turn for watch, Casey."

Blinking, still easing out of his dream reality the teen sat up. He arched his back, rolling his shoulders as he did so, hoping the aches would leave. They did not.

He could still feel his sister's weight against his chest, but where there had been warmth there was now a gaping hole. Standing, he pulled on his gear and started towards the door.

"..Casey?" April asked.

He paused, swallowed, then replied "What?" hoping his voice was steadier than the throbbing ache in his throat.

"…You looked happy." The unspoken question hung in the air. Seconds passed, and words vanished into the void in his chest. Minutes. Hours? He couldn't tell and it didn't matter.

"Sweet dreams, Red," he said at last as he lowered his mask. As he left the room, nothing more was said.


End file.
